Into a bold new era then (well, into a new century of this column, anyway), and we kick off with a man who once endured the least enviable of tasks: having to rescue a gig after I'd just half-killed it.

Back in 2013 I was doing a feature for a big football magazine about soccer and stand-up, how the two don't tend to mix, the main focus of which was me doing a stand-up set about football, at a nice little gig called Twice As Nice in Hammersmith.

It didn't go well. Not only did I die, but I died for twice as long as I was booked for (thus inadvertently mocking the name of the night), got heckled, panicked, the whole shebang. How does a gig bounce back from that? With Dane Baptiste, who launched into a corking good football bit of his own and, frankly, saved the day.

Baptiste went on to win a Best Newcomer nomination for his first Edinburgh show the next August, and bagged himself a BBC pilot, which has now become a series. The semi-autobiographical Sunny D launched on BBC3 this week, also starring Katherine Ryan and a sitcom legend: Rising Damp's Don Warrington.

Hence we did this chat at New Broadcasting House, in a meeting room named after Robert Robinson from the fusty old panel show Call My Bluff. How brilliantly random.

So we met after you had to follow me, at that Hammersmith gig...

I remember!

I was impressed with the way you won everyone over with that football bit. Presumably you were planning to start with something else?

Yeah, I keep it quite skeletal, a few bullet points about what I want to cover, but I like to read the room. I suppose it's like cycling, if you can slip into a slipstream of somebody it helps to contextualise your set. If you're on a mixed bill, it's like a relay, so it's nice to be able to take the baton.

We chatted afterwards, and you were sorting your first Edinburgh hour the next year - I was banging on about free gigs but you went ticketed... and here we are at the BBC. Shows what I know.

My primary objective [with stand-up], which it continues to be, was just to have a good show that was well attended that people enjoyed - that was all I wanted to do. But before you arrive there, as an act, it can be very daunting seeing all these enormous posters of your peers.

Had you been before?

I'd been up there twice, to do some recon. The year before I hadn't planned on going because I'd fractured my ankle, but I was in a competition final. There was another gig over at Nando's and people were like 'not only do you get paid for this gig, but you also get a Nando's card!' But I was waiting so long for the votes to be tabulated, that I couldn't get the Nando's card. And I wasn't even placed! Wasn't worth it at all, Si!

It's nice to know it hasn't always fallen nicely into place for you.

There's always pitfalls. But that first Edinburgh room was in the Pleasance Bunker, and I liked the aesthetic of it, because I was largely influenced by a lot of 90s US comedy where it's literally a brick wall and a microphone.

So was it during that run that the BBC got interested?

The BBC comedy commissioner, Shane Allen, came to a preview in London, and it coincided with the time when people were submitting Comedy Feeds [pilots]. So there was interest but it went back and forth, determining what sort of format it would be, would it be scripted or a sketch show? And in the end it was like, 'well we kind of want to do both'.

Then when I did the Edinburgh show and got the nomination, there was a bit more trust that I could realise creative control over it.

That Best Newcomer nomination really helped then...

It was funny, I was standing by a window really stressed, and my manager called and decided to do the Simon Cowell thing: 'Dane, I'm really sorry to have to say this but... you've been nominated!' and I was like 'Dude, I'm BY A WINDOW. I've had enough stress, that's not funny.'

It could've been worse...

Yeah - 'Ah Dane, I was just pranking... hello?'

I'm not sure what happens if the nominee dies before the ceremony. You'd probably have to let them win?

I reckon so, or there'd be a memorial award the next year. I'm not sure if any comics have ever passed away during Edinburgh.

There must be one or two, with all those comics up there, just on the law of averages.

Part of you dies in Edinburgh anyway. It's boot camp, it's gruelling, at the very least you leave a Horcrux [see Potter, Harry] in Edinburgh. A part of your soul is up there.

So did you always have a plan for what your own TV show would be like?

I guess I had an idea. But maybe five, ten years ago, having a TV show would mean everything. Now in a post-Hulu, Amazon Prime media world, being on television isn't the be-all and end-all. So it's more about realising a vision however you can.

I suppose with BBC Three being online now, you don't have to worry about getting a bad slot.

Yeah, it wasn't as specific as the slot, it was more about when. Initially it was going to be out in July, but I think, very intelligently, the BBC thought that's festival season, where getting people inside to watch something is a lot more difficult. So it was slated for October, which is Black History Month, which is good for building profile. But at the same time, you don't want it to appear to be a novelty.

The pilot reminded me of Spaced in places, but where that referenced films, you're referencing classic comedy, which is a nice change.

I think people forget, BBC Two especially, how much it contributed to showcasing black comedy: The Fresh Prince Of Bel Air, Blouse And Skirt, The Real McCoy, so I like to take that opportunity to pay homage to that.

And also, because of digital now, the revolution won't be televised, it'll be streamed, so with that, people are a lot more pedantic when looking at your aesthetic, so that's why films in the HD generation, they have to put 'Easter eggs' in there.

There are people making a living doing YouTube shows explaining the Easter eggs in Marvel shows, old comic references.

I've loved comic books since I was a kid, and that was a big influence. So there's definitely a lot of Easter eggs in there, even the posters in my bedroom, lots of influences that the more trained eye will pick up on.

There's some quirky stuff going on. How did the original script look? Are all the cutaways and special effects in there?

Yeah, I had to learn how to do that, and to get to grips with Final Draft [script software]. I wanted to make sure it wasn't like anything people had seen before.

What else inspired it? I was thinking Everybody Hates Chris too.

Yep, that's definitely one. I go as far back as Spatz on CITV with Dexter Fletcher and Julia Sawalha - and Vas Blackwood.

So what were you into as a kid: stand-up, sitcoms...?

Around the 90s I started going to America, every two years I'd spend a few months in the States, so I became heavily influenced by US sketch shows like In Living Colour, then Moesha and Sister Sister. I probably got into stand-up in the late 90s, because a lot of people I saw were stand-ups to start with.

Particularly in the States...

Yep, In Living Colour was where Jim Carrey started, and Jamie Foxx. But also LL Cool J had a show, Queen Latifah had a show. When I got back to the UK I got a cable box, and I just gorged on comedy, all the time. I got the box set of Def Comedy Jam, then there was an explosion of American shows - Roseanne, Grace Under Fire, Margaret Cho had a show, I loved all of them. But I was also really into animation. The Simpsons, that changed my life.

So how were you feeling about acting, before your sitcom?

I was probably resistant to it, out of fear. But I did some preparation, I did a clown course with Doctor Brown, which was great.

You didn't have to get naked? I recall his meat and two veg looming over me in Edinburgh once.

I didn't have to get naked, but you still have to surrender all your fucks at the door if you want to have a good time. It's about embracing your inner idiot, and it was very beneficial.

So whose idea was that?

It was suggested by the exec producer for Sunny D. I also studied at [improv workshop] Second City as well. I did a workshop with them for a few days, and I was initially reticent because 'I'm a stand-up, I'm a deadpan comic', but again it was really rewarding, and it lent to the whole thing.

The punchlines work and the script is strong, but when you're on camera there is a certain amount of animation you need to have: it looks overstated to you, but onscreen it doesn't.

Don Warrington is super cool in the show.

Yeah, he's Shakespearian trained, when we were having table reads he'd say [deep Don voice] 'please Dane, just try to project and enunciate, make sure you don't mumble.' He barely has to raise his voice because he's trained to speak from his diaphragm, while I'm 'HAVING TO SPEAK LIKE THIS.' He barely has to look up - 'I am Don Warrington!' - and it booms throughout the room. I didn't know what the phrase 'chew scenery' meant, but I do now.

To be honest, most of the cast had much more experience than me, and I had apprehensions about my acting ability, but it worked because of the chemistry.

How did the writing work?

I wrote it and Rhys James did some editing, because I was aware of his experience writing punchlines - he added a few adlibs, probably about six lines. But the other comics on the show, I kept it skeletal, so 'if there's anything you can adlib, feel free.'

Katherine Ryan, there were a few cutaway scenes where she could add stuff that were amazing. Danny Gray - Slim - he's enormous on the black circuit and I wanted to give him this exposure, he was great. I wrote the characters with these people in mind, almost like cheating! Like I was just putting together a comedy night, people I know are good and can deliver.

Was it helpful being on set as the writer?

I think it would have been daunting, but I guess because you are the writer, the other actors feel a pressure to realise what you've written. I wanted creative control of the writing, but I wasn't that precious if they had a topper for a punchline that they felt more comfortable delivering.

It's pretty amazing having so much creative control on your first project - if you walked away from comedy now, you'll always have that. Although in the old days you'd have a VHS. Now, er, a USB stick?

Yeah, or the username and password for an iCloud account - it's not so tangible is it? But maybe that's why you can't be too precious about these things. You might never have the tangible representation of it, so I suppose it's more about the experience of working with talented people. That's what you take away.

How did you get into stand-up?

On reflection now, I had to do it. I always thought I should have a high powered job in the city that involved a suit, because I thought that's what my mum wanted, and that's why that also happens in Sunny D. But I always gravitated towards stand-up.

I like the freedom of it. A lot of my inspirations were quite socially active. Stand-up, there's a quasi-journalism to it. It often leads to activism, because you're talking about what's going on.

There's a great callback about BBC diversity in your Live At The Apollo set. I was thinking watching your sitcom that it's a perfect response to that Daily Mail rant about diversity quotas, because it's a whole new story that we haven't seen before, which is what the BBC is supposed to do.

It's very weird, there's such a jingoistic narrative about 'oh, this is not representative, it's quota-filling.' If we were that concerned about domestic produce, look at football, we clearly have a palate for foreign influence.

Comedy nights and football clubs are kind of similar - they mix it up because that's what works.

Yeah, and that's what I like about comedy, they might say 'you've prospered because you satisfy a particular minority quota' but, I can't lie to this audience. I did half an hour at a biker rally! They're not going to lie - if I'm not good they're going to throw a bottle of piss.

The way you link your libido and diversity at the end of that Apollo set is a lovely bit of work.

We get bogged down in complex things, but really we're just animals, most people are just trying to eat and survive. And I say that because there's a link with migrant workers and xenophobia, because that's where it stems from, the fear that you won't be able to provide, have access to food, resources, be able to procreate or provide for your children. It's fear.

I remember prior to the credit crunch, when the economy was inflated, people were a lot more liberal because there was enough to go round. You don't worry about immigrants if you can afford to employ one to fix your house.

Good point. It's certainly an interesting time to be doing comedy.

My friend posted the Apollo bit on Facebook, and it got loads of views, but one guy was like 'well I don't like this, I don't think this is a very good attempt at comedy.' I clicked on his profile and there are confederate flags behind him. And the thing is, that's good, because I'm writing it to upset him, that's the point. If you're pissed off by it, my job is done, because I'm making fun of you, I've achieved the objective.

Still, it takes some confidence to put yourself up there to be criticised.

Yeah, it's like Chris Rock says: fire can cook your food, but it can burn your hand as well.

The first episode of Sunny D is streaming on BBC Three now, with Episode 2 due this Sunday, the 20th November. Episode 1 will also be shown on BBC One on Sunday at 11:15pm, for more traditional TV watchers/people with hopeless WiFi.